Free Death by Denim by Linda Gerber Page B

barely see three feet in front of us.
    From behind—I couldn’t tell how close—came a sharp crack as if someone had stepped on a very large twig. I tugged on Ryan’s hand to signal him to stop. We pressed our backs up against a tree trunk and waited. I wanted to gulp in great rasps of air, but I forced myself to breathe silently, easy in, easy out, until I thought I would choke. There wasn’t much I could do about my thundering heartbeat, though. I closed my eyes, wincing with every ba-bump, quite sure that Marlboro Man would have had to be deaf not to hear it.
    I heard him pass by. I didn’t dare turn my head to visually verify it was him, but I didn’t really have to. I could smell—the burnt-tar stench, now mixed with pungent BO. That was enough for me.
    Ryan shifted so that his body was shielding mine against the tree and he stood there, pressed up against me, until Marlboro Man was long gone and his odor faded away. It made me feel, if not exactly safe, at least protected. Grudgingly, I had to admit that I was actually glad that Ryan had insisted on coming along. I would have preferred it to be Seth pressing me up against the tree, but that was a thought for another time. Our only concern at the moment was getting out of the woods undetected and finding our way to Varese.
    Suddenly, Ryan was gone from me. He sprang into the darkness and I heard scuffling to my left. Someone grunted. It didn’t sound like Ryan. And then I heard a heavy thud and the ground vibrated beneath my feet.
    Ryan returned, out of breath. “Let’s go. Quickly.” He took my hand again.
    “Is he . . . ?”
    “He’s out, for the moment.”
    “What about his gun?”
    Ryan grinned as he held the weapon up so it could catch the faint moonlight. “No worries,” he said, and tucked the gun into the back of his waistband underneath his shirt. He led the way through the trees double-time. I had to practically run to keep up with him, but I wasn’t going to argue. I kept thinking that Marlboro Man could wake up at any moment and when he did, he’d be plenty angry. I didn’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity when that happened.
    Eventually, the trees thinned and spilled out of the woods near a paved road. Not the same road we had seen that led into town, I guessed, since this one was flat and straight, whereas the other had curved away from the station.
    “What now?” I whispered.
    “We keep moving.”
    “How close are we to Varese? Can we take a taxi?”
    He snorted. “We’re not that close.”
    “Can we take one to the next station? Beyond the cow on the tracks?”
    He nodded. “That’s the idea. We just need to figure out how to get there.”
    “There was a taxi stand back at the station. . . .”
    “No good,” he said. “Our friend back there could be waiting for us.”
    “The city center, then. It can’t be far from the station, can it? Do you think this road connects with the other one?”
    Ryan hitched his hands on his hips and peered through the darkness. “Only one way to find out.”
    We followed the road, walking on the pavement because it was easier than navigating the uneven ground. A breeze had picked up and I, in just the tank and shorts, started to shiver. Not horribly, but enough that Ryan noticed.
    “Here. Take this,” Ryan said. He peeled off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. I tried to give it back—I was beginning to feel just a little too much like a damsel in distress—but he glowered at me. “Put it on.”
    I figured it probably wasn’t worth the argument, so I slipped my arms into the sleeves. Just then, two beams of light swept toward us down the road.
    Ryan grabbed me and pulled me off to the side. “Stay low,” he warned. “We don’t know who it might be.”
    I ducked low as he was doing until the lights drew nearer and a delivery truck came into focus. “A ride!” I jumped up and waved my arms madly to flag it down. The truck passed slowly, but then rolled to a stop just a